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Maggie stepped into the
living room and was immediately intercepted by an older woman who led
her to an open spot on the well-worn, paisley couch. Next to her sat
Sam's grandpa, an older, tireder version of Sam, but when he turned and
grinned at her as she sat down, she saw a recognizable twinkle in his
eye that made her ease back comfortably against the couch cushions. The grandpa had a dusty old photo album on his lap, flipped open to pages that contained family portraits from years and years ago. |
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As he slowly paged through the album,
pointing out details to family gathered around him, his voice and hands
became more and more animated. He was drawing the younger relatives into
his history, into their history. She hadn't talked to them in years. |
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